


Bargain

by Jaded_Girl_83



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaded_Girl_83/pseuds/Jaded_Girl_83
Summary: Is this to be my fate? some voice inside of her wailed. Doomed forever to look on the man I love and fear that he is gone?
Relationships: Attolia | Irene & Teleus, Attolia | Irene/Eugenides
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place towards the end of "The Queen of Attolia" after the gods' betrayal of Eugenides is revealed.

Attolia sat on her throne, as still as the marble beneath her. The throne room was emptied of attendants, guards, and courtiers alike. She’d ordered them all out, and the only movement came from the shimmying candle flames. They were the only source of light; the sun had set some time ago. Her back was ramrod straight, her breathing shallow, her eyes intensely focused on nothing. Her mind was tense. She refused to think any thoughts, only letting the words of her prayer echo over and over…

_Give him back to me. Just give him back to me._

Anytime her thoughts tried to linger on that sentence, her chest tightened. Then she would force the thoughts back into numbness and let the words empty of emotion, if not of substance or sincerity. The gods did indeed exist; her future… Eugenides had proven that when his prayer shattered the palace windows and fixed closed a door that had no lock. He had been there for hours.

She likewise had been alone in her throne room for hours. A little while ago- she did not know how long- she’d heard a muffled conversation from the far side of the doors, but no one had interrupted.

Suddenly, the candles all shuddered and a heretofore unnoticed pressure lifted from her. She took a sharp breath, her skin icy and tingling. As the mysterious pressure lifted, an old and familiar one settled again. She knew what it meant.

She was once more the most powerful being in her palace.

She rose in one swift motion and crossed the giant chamber. “Open the doors,” she called out.

A moment’s hesitation and the massive oak doors swung in. She did not slacken her pace, but continued with purpose towards her destination, gathering attendants and soldiers in her wake. Her retinue was well trained, but whispers followed them as they passed the palace staff and members of court.

A guard and a courtier stood outside the little sunroom that Eugenides had appropriated. “Open the door,” she commanded.

The guard and courtier exchanged glances. “If Your Majesty remembers,” stuttered the courtier, “the doors are quite inexplicably immovable-”

“They will move now,” she informed him coolly. “Open the door.”

The guard grabbed the handle. It turned, and the latch clicked obediently. A line of light appeared against the doorjam, and Attolia froze.

Starlight shone through the broken windows, but every inch of the room was scorched black. The remains of Eugenides’ sacrificial goat was a heap of ashes and charred bone chips. The floor looked wet and sparkled almost as much as the sky.

And in the center of the room, collapsed on the floor, was Eugenides.

 _Is this to be my fate?_ some voice inside of her wailed. _Doomed forever to look on the man I love and fear that he is gone?_ She took a deep breath, her voice a bit hoarse but steady. “Does he breathe?”

Teleus stepped into the room. A crunching sound accompanied his every step as puddles of glass splintered under his boots. He crouched down, and she found her hand wrapped tight in the heavy folds of her robe. The longest moment of her life passed…

“He lives,” Teleus said.

A ragged breath escaped her, as quiet as she could make it. “Remove him from this room and summon the physician immediately.” She glanced over her shoulder at one of her attendants. “Inform Eddis.”

They all scurried to do her bidding. She stood there, unmoving, until a stretcher was brought, watching closely to make sure Eugenides was handled gently. As the stretcher passed by, the edge of his clothes brushed her arm, and her throat closed up. She ached to follow, but she still had business here.

She slowly stepped into the room. “Your Majesty!” Teleus barked in alarm, “The floor- wait until I have it swept!”

She ignored him, and with a quiet growl, Teleus came within a few paces of her and kicked at the floor to clear a path for her delicate slippers. She stopped just shy of the center of the room, looking down at the one spot on the floor free of glass and soot. The spot where he had lain.

She stared for a long, long time. Teleus stood off to the side. She looked around the blackened room again. The gods had been here. Had been here and worked wonders. Could any mortal- even one as exceptional as Eugenides- withstand such an encounter? Look upon, _speak_ with such power without losing his mind?

“He is not back to me yet,” she hissed fiercely, looking up at the stars in challenge.

Teleus frowned. “Pardon, Your Majesty?”

She didn’t repeat the words. She spun on her heel and marched out of the sunroom for the infirmary. If Hephestia wanted a grand temple in Attolia, then Eugenides must be restored to her, in mind as well as body.

 **That** was their bargain.


End file.
